


pristine (to murder a lover)

by cheerup



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Chains, Dissociation, F/M, Frequent updates, Human Trafficking, Immortal Reader, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Break, Multi, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Soulmates, Suicidal Reader, Temporary Character Death, hostage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheerup/pseuds/cheerup
Summary: You, the Reader, are essentially immortal thanks to an ancestor's Hatsu that has remained active even after death. The condition? Find and protect your soulmate. Soulmates are fated pairs; if one dies, so does the other.After years of wandering the streets and undergoing unspeakable abuse, you are rescued (your higher ups are killed) by Illumi Zoldyck and his give and take partner, Hisoka Morow. You quickly find out the latter is your soulmate. But what follows is a cacophony of torture and imprisonment as a toy in his possession.As a suicidal immortal who wants to die, the only option left to you for leaving this world is by soul-death, the loss of your soulmate. Therefore, you wisely decide that it would be a good idea to try to kill Hisoka (indirectly of course, since your family's Hatsu would never allow you to harm the one you're most meant to protect).You carry out this idea by sending all sorts of assassins and mercenaries in Hisoka's direction, much to his amusement (especially when a certain Zoldyck is among them).*Can be read from any gender perspective.
Relationships: Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)/Reader
Comments: 24
Kudos: 92





	1. Family Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jieunla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jieunla/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Background on what happens before and as you (the Reader) are kicked out of home and told to find your soulmate.

It was strange sometimes to think about how someone in the universe existed made just for you (and you for them). Your family didn’t find it strange, perhaps because everyone had a soulmate, but you wondered how the universe did it. What made one person decided for another, inexplicably, inexorably, permanently tied to another person’s life?

One day you asked your mother what happened if your soulmate died before you met them-- because it was common knowledge that as soon as your soulmate died, you would die too, thanks to the bond that was formed between you two. But you didn’t know what would happen before you could even meet and assess the bond.

“It doesn’t matter,” she told you as she tucked you into bed and kissed your forehead. “You two are connected from birth. If your soulmate dies, so do you, even if you’ve never met.”

Six year old you was puzzled by this, because the idea of dying thanks to a perfect stranger was… weird. You pouted all the way until it suddenly hit you-

“What if I die before he’s born? Then what will happen?”

And she replied patiently, as she plugged in your nightlight and switched the lights off, “It doesn’t matter. If you die as an infant, the other might never be born or would also die as a baby in the womb. Nobody has ever existed without a soulmate, little one. Even if they never met, soulmates are forever dependent on each other. No exceptions.”

That was your first introduction into soulmates and the significance of them.

* * *

The next serious time you learned about it, outside of basic lessons from the village schoolteacher, was from your grandfather.

After dinner one evening, he took you on a walk and as you two returned, you sat on the porch and he talked to you about soulmates and how things were a little bit different for your family than others. It was a unique situation—apparently, there were many other so called instances of “nen” but one of your family’s ancestors had a particular ability (Grandpa called it a “Hatsoo” or something of that sort) whose nen had remained strong despite their death. The effect was that as long as the eldest living family member knew about the Hatsoo- “Hatsu,” Grandpa corrected you firmly as you explained it back to him to prove that you understood- every descendant would be immortal to everything except soul death (dying from the loss of a soulmate).

The history behind it was unnerving, and you didn’t want to hear it, but grudgingly absorbed it because- well, you had to. You were one of these immortals now, or well, you had been your entire life, but now you were hearing about it. Your ancestor had been yearning to find his soulmate during the whole duration of his existence, and had made it his entire life’s priority, but unfortunately he was diagnosed with a fatal, degenerative disease. The realization that there was a high possibility he was soon going to kill the precious soulmate he had not even met spurred him into creating the Hatsu. When he died, his plan was to do so with such conviction that his lineage would never suffer the same fate and die on their soulmate.

It was a bittersweet ending to the story that he in fact met his soulmate just two years prior to his death. Originally, the Hatsu had been intended to work on his best friend and his family, but he ended up meeting his soulmate heartbreakingly in the final years of his life and they had two sons.

When you heard all of this and fully realized that you were immortal, your grandfather understood the moment the light dawned in your eyes. He pulled out a pistol and shot you twice in the torso. It hurt like hell and you passed out, but awoke eventually to your father shaking you with a… not quite impatient, but hardly concerned expression.

“It’s time, little one.” He thrust a backpack into your hands and briefly gave you a hug before pulling you with him out of the door. Stunned, you could barely understand what was happening as you got into the car and drove with him for what felt like nearly an hour. But it felt all too sudden when he stopped in the middle of nowhere and parked.

He opened your door and helped you down. “Find your soulmate,” he said. “Trust that you cannot die and protect them with your life, not only so that they may live, but so that you may also.” He glanced around, even though there seemed to be nobody else, and took a deep breath before speaking again. Your father’s eyes were glistening with tears, and as he spoke, guilt bled through his tone.

“Your mother confessed to me once that she found this out the hard way. I don’t want you to experience the same thing. You cannot directly hurt your soulmate. Most soulmates can injure each other the same way as any other person—but our family is an exception. If you try to lay hands on your soulmate, even playfully, the curse- the hatsu- will lash out at you.” He paused, breathing heavily.

“It will generate this feeling in you to protect them. You can fight it, but it will hurt. But please, don’t try to hurt them directly. You… what happened to your mother one time… just trust me, little one, please. I love you so much. Come back to us soon—your grandfather won’t allow you to come home without your soulmate, but I believe in you. I love you, be safe.”

With that, he wrapped you in another hug before driving away, leaving you lost, cold, and confused.


	2. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin to come to terms with the situation after an awkward encounter with a stranger.

Finding your soulmate was easier said than done. You spent hours first walking to the nearest city; your village was a ways out from any place with a population of more than 200, even if your dad had guiltily drove you much farther from the village than he was supposed to according to family tradition.

By the time you reached what looked like a reasonable road, your feet were scratched and swollen, and your body too tired to function properly. When you tried to stand up straight, your spine refused to cooperate, staying hunched over as you swayed from side to side. A breeze could have knocked you straight over.

On the road, there were people driving by and by and one stopped (probably out of curiosity).

“Hello? Are you alright? Do you need medical assistance?” A voice delicately asked from above you, and it was either bad or perfect timing as you collapsed on the side of the road in front of them. The stranger cried out in a distressed type of fashion, but it seemed a little bit awkward, as if they weren’t sure what to do beyond being unhappy at the situation.

“Um, can you stand? No? I’ll just… I’ll just help you then.” Thin arms that were surprisingly strong with wiry force lifted you up and tugged you into the backseat of a sedan. You felt the car moving a few minutes after the door was firmly shut, and in the driver’s seat, the stranger dialed a number. You heard them swear once—apparently having issues pressing buttons. It was whatever to you. You were immortal, and couldn’t die regardless of the situation, so-

Oh. You were immortal. That was right. So, why were you going to the hospital again? Better yet, why were you feeling all of this pain in the first place? Surely you were supposed to have some kind of advanced healing, but still, your feet hurt so much, your entire body hurt so much…

Either way, you decided, it was best not to go to any kind of hospital. Who knew what they would discover about your body and its functions; if you were extremely unlucky, you might even be locked up and studied as a science experiment. You’d heard terrible things about government lab researchers.

“M’am- Sir- friendly person… I’m really fine. Please let me out,” You tried pushing against the car door, but having never driven much thanks to the village being tiny, you didn’t know how car doors worked. Your mother or father had always opened it for you.

Helpless, you began to cry, and it seemed that the stranger took notice of that at least.

“Ah, what?? Please, don’t cry. I promise, I’m only trying to help you. Look, stop crying. I- you know what, I don’t want to be arrested if you die in my backseat or something. Calm down, okay? I’m stopping now.”

With those entirely reassuring words, the stranger screeched to a halt and immediately got out and opened the door for you, much to your relief. You stumbled out of the vehicle and fell on the ground after walking just a few paces—your feet were much too scraped up and worn out to support your weight. But the stranger seemed completely uninterested in helping you now, as they panickedly drove away, leaving you in an unknown area.

You looked up from your position on the pavement and realized that you were in the city itself now.

Not anywhere near the center of the city, it seemed, since nobody was around and there were few cars parked on the streets. But it was a start. The first step to getting back home, it seemed to you at least, was taking care of yourself. Finding your soulmate and all that jazz could be reserved for when you had resources to properly look. After all, you were only twelve still. You didn’t want to be married to some stinky boy and have to keep track of him. He had his parents for that, and if he didn’t have parents then, well—

Poor him. Aw. You never really thought about if your soulmate would have the same situation as you. Well, you obviously knew his would be different, but- anyway- that wasn’t the point.

You dragged yourself to your feet and leaned against the nearest structure in sight, which happened to be a metal dumpster. Yep, you definitely weren’t in the heart of the city, but maybe closer to the center than you originally thought. Since, while there weren’t that many people around, you seemed to be in an alley type of off the main road place. There were rows of more buildings and additional parked cars around when you peeked out around the dumpster and out of the immediate area.

“I miss Mom,” you said out loud suddenly. Then it occurred to you—where was the backpack your father had given you?

You frantically patted yourself down before realizing that it was securely on your back with the straps over both shoulders. Whew, that was a relief; you thought for a second that the stranger in the car had stolen it.

Unslinging the bag from your shoulders and back, you slid back down to the ground following its weight to the gravelly asphalt. You unzipped it eagerly. Maybe there was food? Or water, at least? You kept your thoughts hopeful.

Inside was a plastic vacuumed bag that looked to be full of clothes, three pairs of socks, a pair of shoes—that would have been helpful to put on before leaving the house, but thanks anyway Dad, you snorted, taking a pause to slip on some white socks and the shoes. Then you kept digging.

The best thing you found was undoubtedly a bag of chips, which you opened and immediately began snacking on. You alternated between gulps from a bottle of water you also received and handfuls of chips before finally deciding to save some for the road, so to speak.

As for the rest of your sack, it contained some items whose purposes were unclear. There was a sheet of paper and on the top was written large in your mother’s handwriting, “Rules to Follow.” Well, that wasn’t really unclear. But you probably wouldn’t be following most of those rules, so you set it aside and promised yourself to read it later.

There was also a wallet with some money and plastic cards, but you had never used money in your village and didn’t know how much it could get you, only that it existed and what it looked like. But you set it to the side and also resolved to count it up later for reference until you could discover what it was worth.

Finally, there was a picture of your family together. You hugged it for a moment before chucking it at the brick wall across from you. Your grandfather was in the picture, and he had just shot you and it hurt—granted, you didn’t die or anything, but you were still feeling a little bit salty. After a moment or two you huffed out an annoyed noise before unsteadily getting to your feet and going to pick up the photo in its now-scratched plastic frame.

“Rules to Follow,” You read out loud. “Never tell anyone except your soulmate of your immortality or our family’s history. If you are asked about it, you can lie. It’s okay.” Did your mother think that you still thought lying was unacceptable even given circumstances like this? She was more naïve than you. Or maybe she just wanted to believe that you were a better kid than reality would have it.

Now that you felt even guiltier, it was a great time to read more, you might as well, you decided. “The- actually, I probably shouldn’t be reading this out loud….” you admonished yourself out loud before continuing in your head.

‘You have been given an ID card, debit card, and 50,000 Jenny. To put this into perspective, the bag of chips your father packed for you is worth 300 Jenny. So, that’s a decent amount of money that we are trusting you with. But it’s not enough for you to live on until you find your soulmate. That’s what the debit card is for. You’ve never used one of these before, but around cities and stations (you know, where we stop for gas on family trips) there are machines called “ATMs” and you can put that card in and get money out. (Keep the card, don’t let the machine eat it.) The ATM will ask you for a PIN, which is like a secret password. The password is your grandpa’s birthday, okay? Now go get em, tiger.”

You thought that was all, but when you went to fold the paper and stuff it back in your pack, you saw writing on the back and flipped it over.

‘Come home safe, I will miss you so much. It took me eighteen years to find my soulmate, and by then, I didn’t want to come home. But there is more you need to know. There are ways for you to find more about Hatsu and Nen, but some things only family can explain. Stay safe, little one. Your father and I will miss you. Your grandfather is an old codger but he will miss you too.”

You didn’t even realize it by then, but you were crying—you only saw that when tears dripped down on the paper and you wiped them away hastily. Whatever, so you were crying. It was normal after losing your home.

“You're fine," You wiped your nose on your sleeve, very obviously not fine. "Stop crying," You told yourself, "You are not little anymore, you are a grown-up now, and they are the ones that kicked you out anyway, so, fine!” You stomped your foot before realizing how much that hurt and spent the next couple minutes hopping around on one foot while holding the other in your hand. But then you realized how much hopping on one foot hurt too—so you sat down again and took some deep breaths.

“You have been through worse things than this,” You resolved to yourself out loud—which was a lie, since this was undoubtedly the hardest situation you had ever been in. But hey, your mother had just given you official permission to lie, so of course you were going to start exercising this right.

By now, the area was getting to be quite dark, as the sun was setting. ‘I should find a place to sleep,’ you didn’t think it was very smart to just lie around here in the alleyway. It was off of the main street, sure, but someone could easily come up while you were napping away and steal your stuff! There had to be a better place.

After taking a couple more minutes to yourself, you were finished stalling time, and got up with your backpack on and your hands shoved into your coat pockets. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out onto the street and were met with a sight that shocked you beyond belief.


	3. Stranger Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet a couple people and realize that depending on yourself, at 12 years old in an unknown city, might not be doable.

Now, you were just a kid. You might have felt like an adult after everything that happened, but especially after everything that happened, you were honestly just like a kid. So when you stepped out of the alleyway and ran face first into a plump middle aged woman with a warm fur coat, you immediately leaned into her and gave her a hug. The lady’s coat was nearly the same color as the one your mom wore, and it felt like home. It was home. Your mother? Your mother was here-

At least, until she pulled herself sharply away and were slapped you across the face as she shrieked, jolting you into reality more efficiently than if you’d been poured over the head with a bucket of ice water.

“You- you vermin! Get away from me! I can’t believe it- the _audacity-_ to- to _touch_ me! That- that _thing,_ it touched me!” she was being so loud that you instinctively cringed away and as soon as you realized she was in fact referring to you with all of her nasty name calling, you skedaddled out of there with your lip wobbling.

You were just a kid. Adults were cruel sometimes.

* * *

You ran, and ran. Briefly, you had forgotten how powerless you were, what with all of this chaos and being forced out into the world like a young adult with the world in your reach. The streak of fierce independence inside of you had been preening all this time (and you were immortal and had something like magic, to boot.) But underneath all of your yelling and resolve, you were a twelve year old who missed your parents and even (maybe, you hadn’t decided if you completely forgave him yet for shooting you with apparently no reason) your grouchy, murderous grandpa.

So you ran, and kept running, until you ran yourself straight out of breath and collapsed on the ground (again).

“How am I immortal? Is this some kind of joke? Superpowers are supposed to make me invincible,” you wheezed as you curled into a ball on the concrete.

Nearby, a man with a cell phone pressed to his ear caught sight of you, and spoke quietly into the device. “I think I see one. Mumbling about superheroes, seems susceptible enough. Doesn’t look too young.” He paused, as if listening to a reply. “No parents in sight. I’ll wait a few minutes, but it’s probably a runaway.”

Meanwhile, you were busy bawling your eyes out. Crying in public was humiliating, honestly, but there was little you could do to control the flow of tears at this point.

“Um, I’m alright, thank you…” You eyed the man uncertainly, before realizing he was loosely holding a phone in his left hand. “Actually, mister, could I borrow your phone?”

He gritted his teeth, but you didn’t notice. “Sure, to call your parents? Go ahead.” Inwardly, he cursed at the idea of losing another one. If you were a lost child, not a runaway from an abusive home or such, he was less inclined to try to bring you into the group. Especially if you had parents looking for you that you were about to call. He should have lied and said his phone was dead, damnit-

“No, not to call my parents. They kicked me out, and uh, I don’t even know their number. It’s… for something else,” you corrected him before thinking about it. You were just so focused on making sure he didn’t get the wrong idea about you and consider you some poor lost kid that in the moment, you didn’t consider the benefits of lying.

You opened up a browser app, the same kind that your mom used to let you play puzzle games on a website with. Going to Google, you typed in, “50,000 divided by 300”. You could have done it in your head, you supposed, but it was pretty difficult without a pen and paper since 500 didn’t divide evenly by 3. At least, to your knowledge. Anyway, the answer was about 167, rounded up.

167 bags of chips. That was how much money you had. And they were somewhat decent sized bags, in your opinion you could live a full day off of one bag of that size, and maybe two if you got sick of eating the same chips and didn’t finish the bag and saved it for the day after.

In doing your mental calculations, you didn’t realize that the stranger was also doing his own calculations. Now that he knew you were a perfect target, being kicked out and all with no place to go, he waited for you to give him back his phone as he thought about the best way he could get you to come with him.

“Hey, give me back my phone! Thief!” he yelled as you slowly walked away, googling different brands of chips. You hadn’t even realized your feet were moving, you just were so excited at the idea of the different chips you could buy. Oh! And it just occurred to you that there was more you could buy than chips. Two bags of chips were probably worth a box of mac n cheese, right? And one could be worth an apple juice? The possibilities were endless. Was this the power of money?

“Kid- hey! Come back here!” He chased after you and roughly grabbed you on the arm, disrupting you from your food-induced reverie. “You can’t take off with my phone like that. Give it back.” This one seemed absentminded enough, what with running off with his phone and all. Combined with the lack of parental involvement, it seemed like a good target.

You gave back his phone quickly, mumbling apologies. You were more focused on food right now, to be completely honest. Even after eating those chips, you were thinking about warm, homemade dishes, with ice cream for dessert…

“Look, you seem to be a little out of it. You alright? How long have you been on the streets, they’re not a good place for kids like you.” He tried to get your attention.

“Uhh, don’t worry mister, I can take care of myself. I’m practically indestructible,” you assured him, thinking about how your grandfather had shot you point blank. It still hurt—not physically, but you still didn’t understand why he had to go and shoot you like that. “I’m new to this but I’m okay. I have chips.”

“Right, well… I would feel a lot better if you would let me take you to the nearest police station.” This was a calculated move on his part, since most kids didn’t want to be put in the hands of law enforcement.

You were no exception. “No, it’s fine! I don’t think the police can do anything to help me.” You slowly began to back away, while waving him off emphatically to distract from your moving feet. But his eye caught your retreat.

“If you don’t want official help, how about I show you where the nearest homeless shelter is? It’s getting dark. You can’t sleep out here…” he awkwardly trailed off, leaving a pause where he would normally insert your name.

Oblivious to his hint, you failed to give your name, and he coughed briefly before continuing on. “Is that okay with you, kid?”

“No, I’m good,” you rejected his offer bluntly before turning around and beginning to walk away, hitching your backpack higher up on your shoulders.

“Wait! I seriously can’t just leave you out here; you look like you’re the same age as my son. You could be one of his classmates. If you won’t go to a public place, I could give you a roof over your head for one night? I don’t mean anything else. My name is Ristard Vat, if you wanna tell anyone for insurance, but please. I can’t… my conscience won’t let me just walk away. My wife is making casserole tonight, and my children won’t mind, they’d be glad to meet you.”

You were obviously skeptical. Your thinking was, he and his family will probably try to convince me the entire time that you should go to the police or the shelter or something like that, and you didn’t want to deal with all that bother. But honestly, you were so hungry for warm food—you were freezing in just your think jacket and no hat or anything on your head. It was only autumn, but the sun setting had brought the temperature down several degrees.

“I… sure. But please don’t try to tell me to go to the police.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, holding in the warmth and yourself.

“Don’t worry, my family is really understanding. I’ve done this kind of thing before.”


	4. Staying Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make a few mistakes. But everything can be fixed! ....Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like, see the end notes for a quick visual of the layout of the kitchen/1st floor and clarification on the characters' positions and the reader's path.

Mrs. Vat’s food was very good. Your jacket and backpack lay in a corner next to the front door, unnecessary as you sat at the table and scarfed down potato casserole. It was so warm that you didn’t even care when melted cheese threatened to burn the back of your throat.

As you were eating, Mrs. and Mr. Vat exchanged meaningful glances. Their sons, introduced to you as Hapan and Yewa, continued to stuff their faces in the same way as you were. They were obviously not fazed by your presence.

Mrs. Vat cleared her throat, and you eyed her warily, your fork frozen with its burden of casserole hovering in the air in front of your mouth. 

“What is it?” You asked before she even said anything.

She seemed a bit taken aback by your nature, but she nonetheless proceeded with her question… or at least, there was no way of knowing if she asked the original question she meant to ask—but it was a question.

“Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

You breathed in slowly and then exhaled before shaking your head in response. The streets didn’t count, not really.

“If you’re open to it,” she glanced at her husband as if asking for confirmation, and he nodded encouragingly. “We would love to have you stay with us until you find something more permanent. I don’t know how new you are to this situation-“

“My parents kicked me out this morning,” you told her flatly.

“Well, in that case- in any case- you’re welcome to sleep in the guest bedroom. Maybe we can get in contact with your parents—Ristard mentioned that you didn’t want to involve the police, that’s understandable. They can be useless sometimes.” The woman sighed, and you couldn’t help but smile at her words despite the feeling of unease that being homeless and realizing it, that had set into your heart.

“That would be… great. Thank you, uh, Mrs. Vat,” you finally said, stumbling over your words.

“It’s no problem at all, dear,” she replied, relief obvious in her tone. “Now go show our guest upstairs, alright, Hapan? And I’m counting on you too, Yewa—get ‘em a toothbrush and a change of clothes, if it’s okay with you…?” She eyed you again, a question on the tip of her lips.

You told her your name quickly, just your first name, no last in case they did try to go to the police. You didn’t want to entangle your family in this when they obviously already had a way things were. 

“Alright. Well, good night, then. Boys, your father and I will be up later.” She blew a kiss at her sons and then waved as they scrambled up the stairs, Yewa tugging you along behind him.

When the three of you were safely at the top of the bannister, Hapan abandoned the two of you and fled into the nearest room, slamming the door behind him.

Yewa kicked at the carpeting with his toe. “He’s so stupid, leaving me to deal with you. The guest bedroom is down there,” he pointed straight down the hallway and slightly to the left. “There’s a picture of a buncha clouds next to the window. Uh, you can use the bathroom first, I guess. It’s…”

He proceeded to explain the layout of the upper floor of the house and showed you where the bathroom was, pulling a brand-new blue toothbrush from under a cabinet and handing it to you still wrapped in plastic. 

“Okay, that’s it, I’m outta here. This is weird,” he announced before fleeing the bathroom.

You didn’t mind his obvious awkwardness around you, nor his brother’s outright distaste. While Yewa looked like one of your classmates’ ages indeed, Hapan was probably in high school and had no time to waste on random twelve year olds that his parents decided to take in for a night. Or a few nights. You still didn’t completely trust them, but… this was nice of them.

Absentmindedly, you brushed your teeth and then rinsed, wiping your mouth on the edge of your shirt. Just then, you realized that you were still wearing your clothes, that were smeared with dirt and a little bit of blood on your pants, from your scratched up feet earlier. Oh… well, you had those clothes in your backpack.

You trotted out of the bathroom, stopping to call out quietly in front of the two closed doors, “Uh, if you two want, I’m done in the bathroom. Thanks…” you didn’t want to make things even more awkward by standing around waiting for them to come out, so you quickly continued past, to the staircase.

As quietly as possibly, you crept down the stairs (their carpeting helped mitigate a lot of the noise and creaking) and slide through the kitchen in socked feet, marveling at how smooth the hardwood floors were. Also, how nice your feet felt. There was basically no trace of the pain that had come with putting pressure on them earlier.

When you reached the front door, you bent to pick up your backpack, leaving your jacket still on the floor.

As you straightened up and turned around, you met face to face with Mrs. Vat. “Ahh!” Before you could control yourself, you yelped out loud, not a full-fledged scream but no quiet noise of surprise either.

Mrs. Vat stared at you as she murmured, “My god, my god…. shh, be quiet,” before straightening up and standing up tall as if looking over your head.

Sitting at the dinner table behind Mrs. Vat’s figure were several men in suits. You didn’t know the significance of suits, not really—only that your dad wore them sometimes for work. When it was an important day. Oh, and he wore them too for your recitals and when it was Parents Presentation Day at school. But right now-

“What’s wrong, Vat?” One of the men called out from behind her, and her expression tightened as she turned away to face them.

“Oh, nothing, it’s just one of the children. You know—they’ve been told not to come down during meetings, but sometimes they get thirsty and want a glass of water. It’s nothing new. I apologize for the disruption.” She pushed you away from the door and behind the half-wall. 

“One of your kids, eh? The whiny brat or his older brother?” a voice asked casually from the other side of the wall, and a chorus of laughs followed.

“Actually, it’s neither. A new arrival.”

The sharp voice of Mr. Vat cut through the clamor and suddenly, it became silent.

“A new arrival to your family, Vat?”

You had stopped moving my now, your breathing shallow—scratch shallow, you honestly were holding your breath. You didn’t dare make a single sound.

“To our family… no. Visiting the household. It’s—my sister’s kid. From out of town,” you heard Mrs. Vat explain, her tone still fairly steady and slow in comparison to the racing rhythm of your heart.

You didn’t hear much else for a few moments, but the silence in the room seemed to lift after a bit, the atmosphere growing more comfortable. 

“Well whoever’s it is, just keep that brat out of here,” another man grumbled. 

“It won’t happen again,” she assured him. “Ristard, dear, would you take my place and watch the door for a little bit? I’m going to go put the little one back up to bed and maybe refresh our memory on the rules for getting up and wandering around during the night, alright?”

Apparently Ristard made some indication of agreement, because suddenly you were being pushed along towards the stairs by Mrs. Vat.

Before you knew it, you were up at the top of the stairs, and then suddenly you were being shoved into the guest bedroom. She shut the door silently behind you two and lifted you up and sat you on the bed.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. Those are not very good people. Tonight could have gone much, much worse. Don’t leave this room until I call you kids for breakfast in the morning, alright?”

You nodded because you doubted your ability to speak without screaming or crying. You wanted to explain that you just hadn’t wanted to sleep in their bed with your dirty clothes—you had been trying to be a good guest—but your voice failed you.

“Good, good. Then, sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This image may be helpful when picturing events in this chapter. Reader's path is illustrated by the purple arrow on the way to get the backpack; on the way back, it's illustrated by the pink arrow which bumps into Mrs. Vat. Essentially, Mrs. Vat was facing the door to “watch it” and on the other side of the kitchen, Mr. Vat is at an angle where he can see all the windows at once, to watch them.  
> 


	5. Bad Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just the lead up to the fall.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of rapping on your door.

“Breakfast is ready,” Mrs. Vat sang as she moved onto the next door. Blinking sleep out of your eyes, you sprung up and immediately felt the stress and achiness from yesterday hit you like a ton of bricks.

Ugh… weren’t you meant to heal away all of the pain and tightness that had gathered in your joints? Or was that not in the terms of immortality? Yesterday your feet had felt completely healed just a little after, too.

You groaned and put a hand to your head as a sharp pain shot through it. Well, this sucked.

Making your way down the stairs, you yawned briefly before taking in the sight of waffles and pancakes stacked on the kitchen table, with toppings like strawberries off to the side. You resisted the urge to shudder, imagining those guys dressed up all fancy yesterday sitting around here having breakfast with you all.

To reassure yourself that there wouldn’t be any bad men sitting there, though, you trotted over and took a seat right where you saw one of them sitting last night. You had such a clear memory of that one—he had asked Mrs. Vat what was wrong. The others you never really got a chance to associate a face to their voices.

“Can I have a pancake?” You asked cautiously, not sure what the proper protocol was for breakfast. Were you allowed to just help yourselves?

“No, idiot, the pancakes aren’t for us. They’re for the ants in the corner. Whaddya think?” Yewa scoffed, having heard your question while walking down the stairs. He slid into another chair and immediately got back up again, the noise of wood scraping the tile jarring so early in the morning. He forked two, three pancakes for himself and poured an ocean of syrup over the top and on the sides. Seated next to him, Hapan did the same with both pancakes and waffles.

“I mean…. I dunno,” you began, but suddenly you were distracted by some photos on a nearby podium, next to the radio.

It looked like a younger Mr. and Mrs. Vat. Hesitantly, you asked Mrs. Vat, “Are you two soulmates?”

You didn’t know whether it was proper to talk about soulmates or not in a blatant manner such as this. Back in the village, it was a small enough population that everyone knew each other or someone related to an unknown person, so there was less unknown factors in asking questions. It felt more comfortable. Right now, you were nervous but wanted to make some kind of conversation to make things less awkward.

“Yes, we are, dear,” Mrs. Vat smiled at you fondly, and inwardly you let out a sigh of relief. It seemed like soulmates were a safe topic. Maybe it was just like being married, but, you really didn’t know.

“My grandpa kicked me out cuz he said it’s time for me to go on my own, and I need to find my soulmate to get back,” you told them, a little bit relieved to get rid of that burden of the reason why you were currently homeless.

There was a moment of dead silence before Mr. Vat trudged into the kitchen. You guessed the master bedroom must be one of the other rooms on the second floor, but you hadn’t seen it last night; he came down the stairs.

“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. Vat greeted her husband and soulmate. He eyed the food on the table briefly before plopping himself down in a chair at the head of the gathering. Today his posture was far more relaxed than yesterday and his voice was heavy with sleep when he asked, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“The boys don’t have school today, so I thought you could take them out to the golf course after breakfast. It’s supposed to be quite warm this afternoon, so if you wanted to do that or something else outside now is the best time.” Mrs. Vat took her own seat and proceeded to fill her plate.

“Dad, the kid is looking for its soulmate,” Hapan suddenly said, and you felt his eyes on you before he turned studiously back to his food.

That was so… ugh! You fumed silently, first at the fact that he had called you an ‘it’ and secondly at how he had ratted you out to his dad so easily. You didn’t want to seem like some childish kid who ran away from home to find their soulmate. 

“Actually, my parents kicked me out and told me that I can’t come back until I find my soulmate. I didn’t leave to go look for them or anything,” you corrected ever so slightly, peeved by the insinuation that you were some kind of romantic or a runaway. 

Mr. Vat seemed thoughtful, as he speared a piece of waffle with his fork and cleared his throat. “Well, I can tell you that soulmates tend to be easy to find. I wouldn’t worry too much, the way it works, you’ll run into them soon.”

Hesitantly, you bit your lip before asking, “But how do I know if someone is my soulmate?”

The entire family seemed to pause in unison before Mrs. Vat patted you on the arm and spoke reassuringly. “You just know, dear. The moment your eyes meet there should be a connection that isn’t like anything else. And if you’re in the same vicinity as them, you’ll feel the pull.”

“Vicinity?”

“The same general area, or location. If your soulmate is nearby you can sense them,” she further explained.

You were a little less mad at Hapan now that you realized his parents had actually been able to provide you with some info. Honestly, you were surprised you had never been taught this back in the village, but, it didn’t really matter since you were learning it now.

“Can I be excused?” Yewa asked, breaking the slight silence with the screech of his chair against the tiles. His mother nodded a bit absentmindedly, before she ushered you and Hapan out of the kitchen as well. Now, you hadn’t finished your food yet, but you figured it would be rude to beg to stay there. Reluctantly, you followed the two boys outside. So… that was a no for the golf course then? Mr. Vat didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. The group of you headed down the block, just walking along, until you realized Yewa seemed to have vanished at some point.

Hapan pulled you to the side when he noticed you had paused in your movements. “When you’re done with whatever, just come find me or Yewa. If you lose track of us, just ask someone around here to take you back to our house. It’s just a few blocks away, you probably don’t know the streets yourself yet but the people around here are really friendly so don’t worry.” He told you the address and you nodded; he paused dubiously before saying, “If you forget the address, just say it’s the yellow house with a brown roof next to the big white flowering tree.”

“Yeah yeah, I won’t forget the address. But thanks,” you told him, and then the two of you parted ways, eager to be rid of each other.


End file.
